Sunday, January 18, 2009
By MATT CALKINSThe Press-Enterprise
RIVERSIDE - In the eyes of Lun Phirun Son, the third period is not a two-minute window of competition. It is a possession.
From the viewpoint of the Riverside North wrestling coach, that final stanza of a match is not a moment you endure. It is a moment you own.
The third period is why he once cut his two best wrestlers, for not living up to his standard of dedication. The third period is why everyone needs to hold the 45-pound plate for 30 minutes during weightlifting and leg out that final sprint during cardio.
By MATT CALKINSThe Press-Enterprise
RIVERSIDE - In the eyes of Lun Phirun Son, the third period is not a two-minute window of competition. It is a possession.
From the viewpoint of the Riverside North wrestling coach, that final stanza of a match is not a moment you endure. It is a moment you own.
The third period is why he once cut his two best wrestlers, for not living up to his standard of dedication. The third period is why everyone needs to hold the 45-pound plate for 30 minutes during weightlifting and leg out that final sprint during cardio.
Stan Lim / The Press-EnterpriseLun Phirun Son, who lived in a concentration camp in his native Cambodia and a roach-infested home as a refugee in the San Gabriel Valley, has overcome adversity to coach the Riverside North wrestling team.
The third period, well, the third period ...
"The third period is ours," Son said.
Few know better the significance of making that final push when your legs are Jello and arms linguini. Life, in one sense or another, has been forcing him to do that since birth.
The 28-year-old once wrote in an e-mail that he's likely the Inland Empire's only coach from Cambodia. But he left out the fact that his village was taken over by Vietnam when he was an infant.
He omitted the part about his father being captured and hauled off to a concentration camp a couple months later, and that his family being denied entry to a Thai refugee camp forced him to live "like one of those kids from the 'feed the hungry' commercials."
He didn't mention that when he finally made it to the U.S., he and his four siblings shared a single bed in a cockroach-infested home in the San Gabriel Valley, or that when a third-grade classmate accused him of trying to steal her bracelet, he wound up in detention for two months because his English was too poor to defend himself.
But perhaps the reason Son coaches so fervently is because he knows the importance of having learned from anybody or anything he's come across: Coaches, classmates ... cockroaches.
Yeah, especially cockroaches.
Because really, the man survives everything. No matter what life throws his way, this wrestling coach just can't be pinned.
"I don't know if I'm ever going to get a break, but if I stopped and quit now, what's the point of all the stuff I went through in the past?" Son said. "You can never ask why is this happening to me. You just have to keep going."
It's an appropriate mentality for the North wrestling program, which sometimes looks like an extra on the athletic department's set.
Opponents stroll into the gym draped in stately warmup gear, while the Huskies arrive in sweat suits you're sure you saw at Goodwill. They practice on torn-up mats in North's multi-purpose room, where students and faculty frequently pass through. Sometimes they're even kicked out because the school has a more urgent use for the space.
"We have to get pretty creative sometimes," Son said.
No big deal. You can say Son's developed a knack for adapting.
After the third-grade detention sentence, he spent the summer watching "Sesame Street" and returned to school speaking fluent English.
And while he wouldn't divulge too much about his tour in the Marine Corps earlier this decade, it's probably not a stretch to say he had to make the occasional modification.
Such ability to adjust has translated to a program that had six varsity members before Son took over last summer and now has 13. With the team on the brink of being cut after just one win last season, the Huskies have won 10 of their 15 matches and boast one of the area's deeper J.V. squads.
So how'd he turn this program around?
"Conditioning," senior Carlos Valenzuela said. "Sometimes he (ticks) me off when he's pushing us, because most of the time I'd rather be doing something else."
But overall, Son's conviction that success in the sport comes down to desire earns him a faithful following.
When his former San Bernardino San Gorgonio team stunned No. 4-ranked San Bernardino Cajon two weeks ago, wrestlers repeatedly asked San G coach Joe Kelly, "Did you call Coach Son?"
Son met them later that night to congratulate them.
There may soon be a defining win for the Huskies. While their top wrestlers were pretty successful last year, the newcomers are winning at an astonishing rate. The kids and assistants chalk it up to Son's willingness to listen to everybody while rewarding hard work more than natural ability.
Said Valenzuela: "If Coach has taught me anything, it's that if you want something, you have to go after it."
"The third period is ours," Son said.
Few know better the significance of making that final push when your legs are Jello and arms linguini. Life, in one sense or another, has been forcing him to do that since birth.
The 28-year-old once wrote in an e-mail that he's likely the Inland Empire's only coach from Cambodia. But he left out the fact that his village was taken over by Vietnam when he was an infant.
He omitted the part about his father being captured and hauled off to a concentration camp a couple months later, and that his family being denied entry to a Thai refugee camp forced him to live "like one of those kids from the 'feed the hungry' commercials."
He didn't mention that when he finally made it to the U.S., he and his four siblings shared a single bed in a cockroach-infested home in the San Gabriel Valley, or that when a third-grade classmate accused him of trying to steal her bracelet, he wound up in detention for two months because his English was too poor to defend himself.
But perhaps the reason Son coaches so fervently is because he knows the importance of having learned from anybody or anything he's come across: Coaches, classmates ... cockroaches.
Yeah, especially cockroaches.
Because really, the man survives everything. No matter what life throws his way, this wrestling coach just can't be pinned.
"I don't know if I'm ever going to get a break, but if I stopped and quit now, what's the point of all the stuff I went through in the past?" Son said. "You can never ask why is this happening to me. You just have to keep going."
It's an appropriate mentality for the North wrestling program, which sometimes looks like an extra on the athletic department's set.
Opponents stroll into the gym draped in stately warmup gear, while the Huskies arrive in sweat suits you're sure you saw at Goodwill. They practice on torn-up mats in North's multi-purpose room, where students and faculty frequently pass through. Sometimes they're even kicked out because the school has a more urgent use for the space.
"We have to get pretty creative sometimes," Son said.
No big deal. You can say Son's developed a knack for adapting.
After the third-grade detention sentence, he spent the summer watching "Sesame Street" and returned to school speaking fluent English.
And while he wouldn't divulge too much about his tour in the Marine Corps earlier this decade, it's probably not a stretch to say he had to make the occasional modification.
Such ability to adjust has translated to a program that had six varsity members before Son took over last summer and now has 13. With the team on the brink of being cut after just one win last season, the Huskies have won 10 of their 15 matches and boast one of the area's deeper J.V. squads.
So how'd he turn this program around?
"Conditioning," senior Carlos Valenzuela said. "Sometimes he (ticks) me off when he's pushing us, because most of the time I'd rather be doing something else."
But overall, Son's conviction that success in the sport comes down to desire earns him a faithful following.
When his former San Bernardino San Gorgonio team stunned No. 4-ranked San Bernardino Cajon two weeks ago, wrestlers repeatedly asked San G coach Joe Kelly, "Did you call Coach Son?"
Son met them later that night to congratulate them.
There may soon be a defining win for the Huskies. While their top wrestlers were pretty successful last year, the newcomers are winning at an astonishing rate. The kids and assistants chalk it up to Son's willingness to listen to everybody while rewarding hard work more than natural ability.
Said Valenzuela: "If Coach has taught me anything, it's that if you want something, you have to go after it."
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